


To Pass The Jungle You Have To Go All The Way Around

by Sekrap



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Admin powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dissapearances, Doc does Not have a good time, Domesticated Creeper AU, Dreams and Nightmares, Evil Code, G.O.A.T, Mild Comfort, NHO, Non-Graphic Violence, PTSD, Reunions, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vauge Narrative, openish ending, season 5, season 6, season 7, sorta - Freeform, the Jungle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sekrap/pseuds/Sekrap
Summary: He was a monster. Then, a man. Now, a machine.One day, there were footsteps in the forest.No flap of parrots. No clack of hooves No silent paw-step. Footsteps. With shoes. Loud, hollow sounding shoes that bounced off the stones of the jungle floor. Laughter rang through the trees and the rotting apple fell out of the creeper’s mouth as a hiss bubbled there instead. His paws carried him silently towards the laughter, full black eyes taking in the chromatic scene of the shore and a strange thing tucked into the sand. Worse, were the strange things that must have come from what was in the sand.They were loud, and jumped to and from the trees and the water. One began to knock down a tree and creeper’s hiss grew louder as he stepped closer. These creatures would not hurt his jungle or his pack. The creeper crept closer to the nearest of the things, and the other’s shouted in desperation for their pack mate as the creeper’s belly boiled and an eruption came forth.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 181





	1. Season 5

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in a long time, and first for this fandom. Scared and excited! Enjoy :)

Life was simpler then, when there was only the need for the group to survive. There was no self and no selfishness. One could trust those who you would die for would die for you. You knew there was a place to return to, to protect, and though bodies moving through his space changed, the faces were the same.

All creepers were the same.

Find food, return to the pack, defend the pack, expand the pack. There was nothing easier than that. There was nothing beyond it or behind it, the task was all surface and that is why it was so easy, so simple and mindless and numbing. Finding food was easy, a lazy parrot too close to the jungle floor or a fallen fruit was never too far away. Finding his way back home, sifting through the maze of trees was muscle memory. After too long awake, curling up on a nice pile of leaves always led to blissfully dreamless sleep.

Until, one day, there were footsteps in the forest.

No flap of parrots. No clack of hooves No silent paw-step. Footsteps. With shoes. Loud, hollow sounding shoes that bounced off the stones of the jungle floor. Laughter rang through the trees and the rotting apple fell out of the creeper’s mouth as a hiss bubbled there instead. His paws carried him silently towards the laughter, full black eyes taking in the chromatic scene of the shore and a strange thing tucked into the sand. Worse, were the strange things that must have come from what was in the sand.

They were loud, and jumped to and from the trees and the water. One began to knock down a tree and creeper’s hiss grew louder as he stepped closer. These creatures would not hurt his jungle or his pack. The creeper crept closer to the nearest of the things, and the other’s shouted in desperation for their pack mate as the creeper’s belly boiled and an eruption came forth.

That was meant to be it, you know. The pack would be safe. The creeper had done its part and would not be remembered. He didn’t need to be.

Opening his eye was the most complicated thing. Overwhelming colour struck him with pain in a place he didn’t know he could feel pain. Everything was too bright, too loud, it demanded his attention to the point where he had to curl up and hide and his face. Pressing his face into his knees, the creeper found he was finally flexible enough to do this. When he wrapped his arms around himself, the creeper startled, because he had arms. One was heavy and very much not-creeper-material, but it was an arm.

It was too much. The creeper began to shake, but nothing built in his stomach to make him explode.

“Oh my gawsh, oh my gosh, we did it.” Came a voice, which startled the poor creeper even more. His first instinct was to _stop_ and even though everything was _too much_ he leaped from where he was curled into a protective ball and towards the voice. The creeper drew his claws and bared his teeth, leaping on one of the creatures he had seen before and bringing it to the ground.

Safe to say that was the worst interaction between Doc and Bdubs, but both left relatively unharmed. (Bdubs tells people the scar on his shoulder is from wrestling a creeper and gets oohs and aahs while Doc pretends it never happened but gets very annoyed when it is mentioned.)

After being pulled off the creature, the creeper was cornered by three terrifying things. One definitely smelled of blood and was covered in it, one watched him with an eerily red eye (to be fair, all colours were eerie, but Doc decided he Did Not Like Red), and the one he had tackled gripped an axe as he stood. It was a slow process from there, finding out what they could feed the creeper, making the creeper trust them, and getting to the point where the creatures (hoomans) could communicate with the creeper (ssss).

The humans told the creeper their names and gave Doc one. They were Beef, Etho, and Bdubs. Doc at first struggled to wrap his tongue around the sounds and make them work against his very different teeth, but the humans didn’t mind his slowness and his slurs so his efforts were lazy. Colour slowly became a very normal thing, and so did the heavy metal integrated into Doc’s new and improved humanoid-creeper-mess.

He learned when he first tried to attack the humans to protect his pack (where were they?), his blast had not been powerful enough to obliterate all around him, including himself. He was alive, but injured, when the smoke cleared, and the humans took pity.

The humans gave him reasons. Things to do other than survive. Learn. Make friends. Be comfortable. Be _remembered_.

When other humans came, angry at his friends, Doc flung himself into action. He was all teeth and claws, but the offending humans ran nonetheless. He was proud of himself for defending his friends, but when he turned to grin, all teeth and claws, they were speculating. Soon, his paws were curled around a sword, and in the night he practiced with his friends. The fire he loved to bask in, drinking up the heat, was now only there to light his progress as he pinned Etho to the ground, hissing in his face with a sword to the human’s soft throat.

“That’s good, Doc!” Beef had grinned from across the fire. It took Doc a moment to pull away from ~~the prey~~ Etho and sheath his sword.

The humans came again, their boats (wooden contraptions) stealing places in the sand. They held up shining swords and did not falter when they saw Doc this time. Then was the first time Doc had heard the word ‘pet’, but since he did not know what it meant, he flung himself forwards into the fight. Doc knew how to fight. Talking was still hard.

And as Doc laid on a comfortable pile of leaves and soaked up heat from the fire, he thought of his friends, tucked away in wooden structures among the trees. They had shown him so many amazing things, how to speak, how to build, how to fight, how to mine, and had even saved his life, and he had done next to nothing for them. It was upsetting to think about, so Doc went to sleep.

He dreamt, which was strange. He didn’t like the watery images, the thick green of the jungle leading into an opening he had forgot, his pack sleeping with only the stars to light them, and the green encroaching on their bodies.

Doc woke and decided to show his friends (pack?) the jungle for what he knew it as. He showed the humans how to navigate the thick maze and where to find apples and cocoa beans and which leaves were safe to step on and which weren’t. The humans learned fast, faster than he ever did, and the group moved further into the forest, expanding their outreach. In the depths of the jungle, a new building of what was called the NHO empire erected behind them, the humans and their creeper watched the stars. Doc looked around and Did Not notice the green curling around Beef’s ankle.

The next day, Doc Did Not notice the flower on Etho’s neck. He Did Not find moss in Bdub’s shoes and sticking to his shirt as he swam. The creeper Did Not notice the green swallowing his friends and retreating from him, the vines curling away from his human shoes and loud paws.

What Doc Did notice, was when he slept that night, he had another dream. The leaves were thick, and vines curled around him like they wanted to be a part of him. His pack was there, laying on their leaves as sleeping as others gathered. The more Doc struggled against the vines pulling on him, tearing his clothes and stealing the shoes from his feet and the hardware from his head, the more the creepers around him faded away. In their stead, where Etho, Beef, and Bdubs. They laid on the leaves, the green the creepers bore now vines around their bodies. They appeared to be sleeping, but their eyes were open, green filling their irises until Doc thought they glowed. But then the colour drained, and he saw grey again.

Doc awoke and the jungle was empty.

The jungle _couldn’t_ be empty. The structures still stood. Doc saw the colour around him blurring together into sickening _green_ as he ran and ran and ran, the leaves curling away from his creeper-dressed-as-human body and giving him open paths to run. He called for his friends, screamed for them, begged for his pack, for anything, anyone to find him. His sword fell from his belt but it was okay because he didn’t remember what it was, his world was only green but it was okay because it wasn’t red, the sky wasn’t moving but it was okay because Doc hadn’t _found_ them yet and if the world wasn’t _moving_ he still had _time_.

The creeper ran through the jungle, screaming until he could no more, until he could only hiss at the screaming sun. He begged for his friends to come back and sobbed when he couldn’t remember their names. When he curled up on the forest floor, begging the jungle to _take him too_ , he felt only the dirt, watching the leaves pull away from him.

Doc lashed out with his claws when a hand finally rested on his shoulder. He hissed as loud as he could, his red eye focusing and unfocusing on the human’s hidden face. His claws bounced of the metal of thick armour and he curled up into a tight ball, shuddering. He hadn’t found his pack and he was so _hungry_ but couldn’t bare to eat what was put out in front of him.

“We have to go,” Said the human, so softly. Doc had heard about this one, who had god-like powers to keep the world steady. “I’m sorry Doc. They’re gone. We have to go before more people disappear.”

Doc hissed, but nothing boiled in his stomach.

He met other humans his had once known after the god man had taken Doc out of the jungle and to a new world. The new humans were kind too and some even apologized to him for attacking him on that beach that one time. Doc was impartial and didn’t care for anything that had happened on that old world but what had happened to his friends.

As strangeness began to lick at the new world, Doc knew he had to contain it. He was smarter now, after his grief, and built Area 77. Life was complicated now.


	2. Season 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Area 77 is less of a way to protect Hermits and more of a way to find Hermits.

The scara plant test results were inconclusive, not helpful, and generally a waste of time that made Doc very frustrated. It could not grow in adverse conditions, it did not yield a complex nervous system, and all and it was just a very annoying plant. It wasn’t what Doc was looking for.

The aliens weren’t threatening whatsoever, but Doc needed to know where they came from. He tore apart their ships for clues, metals not from their world or perhaps a handy textbook for light reading. He made notes of the eerily familiar construction and wondered if it had been built by someone he was trying not to remember. Doc scratched out that line, Scar read his notes sometimes and he’d surely be questioned. It wasn't what Doc was looking for.

The hippies were nothing more than a distraction. Their flowers and music did nothing but flood Doc’s senses, halting his concentration with red roses and heavy drumbeats. He had gone toe to toe with them before, fought Grian in an aggressive game of Flags, and Ren had accused him of being a pet long ago. Doc knew their weaknesses and their strengths and knew Grian only wanted his time machine, but Doc wasn’t done with it yet, so he kept them out.

The time machine was important. It was simple in design, a clock to bring you to the time you desired, a compass to direct the travel through time, and a beacon to hold together it’s walls with thrumming power. But, if Doc added another clock, removed one of the stabilizers, and removed the compass in place of a map, he wondered if the time machine could go to ~~the jungle~~ a whole other world. It wasn’t safe enough to test on his own and he certainly couldn’t send someone away hoping they’d come back with his machine, so he stuck to his safer option. For now.

The Infinity Portal looked at him with dozens of purple swirling eyes, judging him for everything he was. Doc wouldn’t admit he adjusted his lab coat under their scrutiny. The nether portal had broken long ago, the eyes firmly fixed to the overworld even when one of the integral pieces of obsidian was removed. Slowly and as careful as one could wielding a pickaxe, Doc removed more obsidian and tested its residual magic. Unlike any other nether portal he had seen, Doc had to keep working to find what was keeping these eyes in the overworld. If he could find a way to _choose_ where this portal lead him, he could go to the jungle, he could find his friends, he could drag them back no matter what they were and finally be with them again and heal them or at least _bury them_ because human death was so much more important than creeper death and if he died _doing it_ no one would _care._ Doc would die protecting his pack and that is what he was made for.

Doc didn’t think that. He had grown past those impulses.

His train of thought was halted by a scream, long and distant and definitely not allowed in Area 77. Doc pulled his trident (it was pronged like his claws and after the jungle he _did not like swords_ ) and looked at the rolling hills of peaceful grass for the offending sound. Behind him was a sickening crunch and the sound of a human body ending, the twinkling of experience levels and their things clattering to the ground. When Doc turned, there was nothing but smoke and one, single experience orb, the green inching towards him.

Doc stomped on it and looked around. Who was that? He looked on the communicator Xisuma had given him. No one had died, said the chat. Hissing under his breath, Doc dug up the small area of dirt and took it inside for testing. Whatever was happening with that portal was weird. Weirder, was that when Doc stepped back outside to continue his work, someone was standing in the peaceful grass, in Area 77, that Doc did not recognize.

He hissed, nothing boiled in his stomach, and he threw his trident.

Much later he learned this was an old Hermit named Keralis who was a pretty cool dude and a very good builder that Did Not deserve a trident pinning his skirt to the infinity portal of which he had stumbled through. Doc apologized when Scar did, but he felt distant, and the second Keralis was off Area 77 property (Doc couldn’t trust Scar to escort him on his own), Doc was back at the infinity portal.

A Hermit who everyone was gone was back. He just wandered through the portal. He said he didn’t know how he found it, but he did, and he was alive when everyone thought the was ~~dead~~ gone.

Unfortunately, that’s the day Doc well and truly lost it.

The sun and moon were beginning to look the same to him. With his natural night vision and the enhanced elements from his eyepiece the light levels didn’t even flinch. If mobs emerged from the bush at night, he could hiss and they would retreat. Life was easy, it was simple, it was work, work and find your pack, work and find your pack and protect them with your life it was so so so easy and

When Doc turned to grab the last step of his project from a nearby chest, the Hermit Leader Xisuma was sitting there. He frowned under the tinted visor of his helmet, and Doc frowned back.

“What are you doing, Doc?” Xisuma asked, voice careful ~~like it was in the jungle.~~

“You shouldn’t be in here. Where’s Scar?” Doc grunted. Doc appreciated Scar for helping him with this project and he would never say it to his face but the Hermit was awful at security. He wall he built could be walked right through. The creeper shook off the thought and moved towards the chest like he expected Xisuma to move out of his way. He didn’t. “I need to get in that chest.”

“Doc, have you slept?” Xisuma asked, and Doc hissed at him. Nothing boiled in his belly and it was so frustrating that the leader didn’t even flinch, didn’t even think about it for a second, he just _knew_ Doc was useless.

“Almost.” He said, because he had to, and tried to open the chest even though Xisuma was sitting on it.

Finally, the Hermit moved and Doc threw open the lid, his stupor of _work, finish, find_ reinvigorated at the sight of the shiny blue diamonds hermits liked so much. He carefully placed a block where the obsidian had once stood. The eyes of the nether warped and fizzed and began shutting, blinking rapidly, before dissolving into the purple. The portal hissed and then snarled and began to roar, the eyes opening into hungry mouths as the fabric of the portal twisted and grew and shrunk and did everything it wasn't supposed to. Doc felt horror take him, unsure how to fix the shrinking portal. He chanted _no, not now, no no no_ as he ran from his chest to the portal, trying to find something that would stabilize it.

It spat and yelled as anything from the nether would and Doc was about to remove the diamond block as a last resort when Xisuma grabbed his arm and yanked him behind the chest, pressing him to the ground. Xisuma covered his head like he expected an explosion, and for a moment Doc thought everything went grey. He clawed at Xisuma’s helmet to escape, leaving deep gouges in the glass. The leader pinned him down, eyes big with fear under his helmet and Doc would later feel sick when he recalled how good it made him feel.

The diamond block creaked and a long stem of purple fed into the blue gem.

Doc jumped up and vaulted over the chest, looking at the portal. It was much smaller now, pulled from its frame entirely, feeding into the diamond block. It looked incredibly unstable, warping like waves, the ~~mouths~~ eyes seemingly wider. Carefully, and with bare hands, Doc encircled the rest of the portal with diamonds. The portal hummed, each block creaking as purple fed into the diamond. The eyes shut, but the portal remained, swirling purple mesmerizing to it’s maker.

“This isn’t safe, Doc!” Xisuma suddenly shouted. “You haven’t eaten, you haven’t slept, and you’re messing with things even _I_ don’t know about! You’re going to hurt yourself and others.”

Doc looked at his finished portal, watching the eyes close one by one. It pulsed with power and Doc _knew_ he had done it.

“They’re not coming back.”

Creepers are incapable of anything but hissing in the sound department. But Doc was no longer a creeper, and when he turned he _snarled._ Xisuma startled and took a step back, hands up placatingly. “They’re gone, Doc. I’m, I’m _sorry_ I couldn’t protect the but this won’t bring them back.”

“It has too.” Said Doc.

“It won’t.” Said Xisuma.

Claws erupted from Doc’s Not Creeper hand and left a scratch on one of the unbreakable diamond blocks. He crumpled, holding his metal hand in his lap and wondering when his life became so complicated. Well, he didn’t need to wonder. He knew. Now, he wondered if it had been a blessing or a curse to be made like this, brought back to life when he could have just died the ways creepers should.

“You’re not a creeper Doc.” The hermit leader sat next to him and put an incredibly gentle hand on his back. He had said that out loud, hadn’t he? “You’re a hermit like the rest of us. And we may not be the NHO, but we are your friends. Would it hurt to just close this place down and forget about it for a bit? Maybe later, after you’ve slept and eaten something, you can come back to it.”

Nodding, Doc leaned his head on Xisuma’s shoulder, sniffling.

Xisuma led Doc out of Area 77 and to his base. Doc ate one porkchop and fell to his side, sleeping for a full day curled up in a bed. For the longest time, he didn’t dream, and Doc didn’t know if that scared him or comforted him.

When he woke, Xisuma tried to help him live life more simply like he did so long ago. Doc went back to the world of eating, working, and not protecting anyone but himself. Xisuma told him that was perfectly okay and Not selfish. Doc began another project in Area 77, fairly close to the infinity portal, but far enough he didn’t have to stare at it every day. Did he want to? Yes, god yes, but the faint humming was almost gone as he worked on the highest parts of his new project. It was a raid farm that looked like a spaceship, a concept he was quite proud of and made Scar excited. Doc didn't know if the excitement was real or pity excitement, like "heyyy you're not crying in a cave somehwere, look at you go" since Scar knew nothing about redstone and usually didn't show interest in what Doc was working on.

Doc’s communicator dinged.

_BdoubleO100 has joined the world._

It was nothing but heartbreak when Bdubs only remembered so many things. He remembered Keralis, who had saved him, and Xisuma, and Mumbo and Iskall and False and Cleo and Joe and all the others. He had shouted their names like prayers as everyone met in the shopping district, tackling him and hugging him. Bdubs didn’t remember Grian (because he never met the man) who stood at the back watching the celebration and he didn’t remember Doc, who couldn't believe his eyes and crept closer a small, scared hiss grew in the back of his throat.

(“Augh! Creeper! Kill it!” Bdubs had cried, armourless and weaponless. Xisuma looked at Doc with something a lot like pity and Keralis lowered his voice to explain that "It's okay! Doc is domesticated. He wouldn't hurt anyone. Well, there was one time with a trident-")

Bdubs remembered nothing from the jungle. He didn’t remember saving Doc’s life or being his ~~pack~~ friend. He stopped calling Doc a creeper but Doc wanted to cry when Bdubs asked him what the NHO meant. This was not the man Doc lost in the jungle, just someone wearing his skin and using his name and Doc didn’t know how to feel other than betrayed. He took comfort in the fact that at least Something like Bdubs was alive, and that meant Something like Etho and Beef had to be alive. It did. It meant that they were somewhere waiting to be saved and fixed and that's just what it was and how it would be and Doc had to _do it._

The Infinity Portal’s hum was louder now, singing to him over the entire world, begging him to come closer. He could find Beef and Etho, his tired brain supplied, and maybe the four of them being together again would be enough to unlock those missing memories. Doc still didn’t know what was on the other side of the portal, but it was a chance.

Perhaps, if Doc found the courage to use the time machine, he could even restore Bdubs’ memories. Maybe he could bring them back to the Jungle and burn the whole place down before his friends even found it. Maybe Doc could go back to being an unfeeling creeper who didn’t need things like friends or to be remembered.

For a second time, Doc exiled himself to Area 77.


	3. Season 7

After the infinity portal had failed so spectacularly, Doc fell in a pattern he knew well. Work. Work, work, work, eat, work work, work, sleep, work, work, work, work, work, eat. It was something he knew how to do and didn’t have to think about as he pieced together his raid farm.

When the magic of Demise took over the world, Doc barely felt it. The book called to him and he signed it, maybe, but he saw the challenge as an opportunity to expend the anger burning him up from the inside. When everyone panicked, he continued working, because he knew if anyone tried to mess with him he would end them and he would finally get the chance to do what he was made for and no no no death is not what he was made for. Doc placed down more glass and tried not to think about Demise anymore.

Then he woke up, and the world was dark, and there were explosions riddling themselves into his skin. It hurt, sure, but he woke up. When he woke up, Doc snarled at the air hanging above him. He hadn’t gotten the fight he longed for, just some stupid trap that drained him and destroyed his metal parts. He wasn’t meant to lose, and one of the Hermits he had long ago attacked with claws was the winner. It didn’t bother Doc that he hadn’t won. It didn’t bother Doc that he hadn’t won. There were other ways he could be remembered.

(Iskall was kind enough to repair Doc’s mechanics but it was a long and painful process.)

A few days later, Xisuma announced they were leaving the world. Demise had plagued the Hermits and though the cursed book had been locked away where it could never hurt a soul again, it had gotten Grian under it’s spell and very well could have trapped someone else. Half finished projects and looming bases and busy shopping centers filled the empty world as the Hermits filtered out with Xisuma leading the way to their new home.

Whenever someone tried to talk to him, he seemed distant. He was always busy, the leader, but never this busy. When he wasn’t in conversation, he was reading code projected onto the visor of his helmet. Everyone assumed it was him diligently checking the new world for any abnormalities like The Jungle and the Book of Demise because everyone was getting a little tired of being cursed. Xisuma brought them all to a small island, and his usual speech was replaced by a few short words and him disappearing to continue his work on his code.

No one noticed how he talked with Bdubs in hushed tones but Doc.

Doc had dragged an unfinished project to the new world with him. He had bought a house of Grian, and so had Bdubs. Grian made them split the house in half. Doc wanted to make the best out of this world and do great big things so he could be remembered. So, he started with a half of a house and a mine and a garden.

Suddenly, the other half of his house was erected a few meters away. Bdubs moved in next to him and waved. Doc only nodded before disappearing into the mines for diamonds. He had plans that would take time but if he didn’t take breaks the time would be less and he would be remembered for a great man, a fantastic Hermit, and his life would be so simple it was comfortable.

The Hermit already liked this new world more. It was fresh beginnings unlike he had ever known that made the air sweeter and the sun kinder. Doc chewed on a small piece of food as he wretched diamonds from the ground, crawling to the surface to find Bdubs watching him.

“Uuh, you’re in my mine.” Said Bdubs.

“It’s on my side.” Said Doc, disappearing back into the mines once he had thrown the contents of his inventory into a nearby chest.

Bdubs frowned. He had expected a fight. A guffaw. Maybe even a giggle. He didn’t expect Doc’s tired eye to barely look at him, so focused on his task he forgot to have a conversation. He wanted to be friends with the guy, but whenever he tried to have a conversation Doc would walk away before it got anywhere. He always looked sorta sad. Bdubs had hoped his house would help, maybe prolonged exposure would stop Doc from being so sad, but the other Hermit was also always _busy._

So Bdubs followed him into the mines.

“The sign saaays this is _my_ mine!”

“Then why am I digging here?” Doc threw over his shoulder, scraping redstone powder into a small pouch. He continued further into the mine shaft.

“Because you’re a meanie!” Cried Bdubs, chasing him. “That’s my redstone! And don’t take my coal!”

Doc grinned and pulled a chunk from the wall. “You meant this?” He teased, and something lit in Bdubs. Finally!

“Thief!” Bdubs huffed, stomping his foot. “You, you know what? Have it! But I get half!”

“Half?” Doc proclaimed, digging his pickaxe into the boring stone in front of him. “I’m doing all the work. No way.”

Bdubs pouted. Doc rolled his eyes. “This is my mine. I got work to do.” Doc bristled and turned away. He swayed on his next swing.

“Have to slept?” Bdubs asked, filled with realization.

Doc didn’t respond and dug his pickaxe further into the rock. When it fell away, shiny diamonds glowed in the torchlight. Doc seemed to shudder before prying them out of their resting place. He pocketed them, wiped his brow, and continued further down the shaft like he wasn’t a breath from passing out.

“Doc, you gotta sleep!”

“Leave me alone.” Doc hissed, and though nothing grew in his belly, Bdubs backed away, fear stricken.

“Fine! Have the mine!” He harrumphed, stepping back after grabbing some granite Doc had thrown onto the ground. He began to fill in a gap. “But this half is mine!”

“Yeah, good!” Doc snapped at the wall now standing between them, the fire dying in his eye. He collapsed in a tired heap, cradling his head in his hands as he curled up on himself. Doc shuddered in the cold mine shaft and took deep breaths to hold back everything that wanted to spring forwards in the form of poorly contained tears and yelling and Everything Not Productive.

This often came after interactions with Bdubs. Doc could see he wanted to be friends but it wouldn’t be like it was and Doc didn’t know how to explain to Bdubs that it hurt he didn’t remember. Bdubs would be friendly, Doc would be flippant, and the cycle spun. Bdubs would leave because at least now he knew when he was beat, and Doc would beat himself up for being so bad at Friends. He shook off the sickening feeling that made something else rise in his stomach and continued mining.

Bdubs snuck out of the mine (don’t tell anyone he actually trapped himself in a dead end and when he pulled himself from the ground it was into the ocean) and arrived at Xisuma’s starter base a long while after, because wow, boats are slow compared to elytras and yet-to-be-erected-nether-portals.

“X! Hows it going?” Bdubs asked, watching bees flitter around the admin peacefully. Xisuma turned and smiled, putting down his saplings and walking over to shake Bdubs’ hand. “Good! Almost through the deep code!”

“Really?” Bdubs asked, letting Xisuma sit with him among the gently buzzing bees. It was peaceful and Xisuma looked relaxed for maybe the first time in months. He nodded and unclipped his helmet from where it attached to his shirt, setting it in the grass. Overworld air was thick compared to what it was in the End where he came from, but it wasn’t terrible to breath for a short amount of time and the heady smell of flowers in the sun was pleasant.

“I’m actually glad you came. I wanted this to happen while you were with me so if anything went wrong or you’re overwhelmed I can help you.” Bdubs nodded along as Xisuma explained everything to him. “I just have to erase a small amount of code from season 5. If I erase the heart of the jungle, it will erase everything that happened to you and Beef and Etho. It could go wrong, but if I erase the whole jungle, which is the safer option, your memories of then will be inaccessible and it will revert Doc to a feral creeper.”

“oh gosh.” Bdubs said faintly. “What about Beef and Etho? What happens to them?”

“I don’t know.” Xisuma frowned. “If they’re in the heart of the jungle, they’ll be lost in code void. If they’re not, they’ll be okay, and might even come to the code here.”

“Ouch.” The Hermit rubbed his hands together, reckless as ever. “Well, no use in waiting. Let’s fire it up!”

Xisuma put his helmet back on and accessed the code with a few oral commands. Bdubs stayed silent, worried to disrupt the process and something very wrong happening because of it. Xisuma filtered through the ones and zeros of season five until he found the coordinates of the heart of the jungle, something that had been alluding him and Doc for years. He selected the gargled numbers that didn’t quite look right, and hit delete.

_Are you sure you want to delete this coordinate?_

“Yes.” Xisuma said. Bdubs startled.

The numbers rippled. Xisuma frowned and peered closer. A second box appeared next to the first one, displaying much more threatening text.

_Are you reaaally sure?_

“Yes.” Xisuma grunted, trying not to show apprehension in front of Bdubs.

_You won’t know how it happened if it’s gone. Don’t you wanna know?_

“No.”

_Are you sure you want to delete this coordinate?_

“Yes! Yes I am!” Xisuma snapped, frustrated with the bratty code. He didn’t know code could talk back. He didn’t much like it.

_Coordinate deleted. Bye-bye._

“ _Hwoah…_ ” Bdubs groaned, leaning forwards and putting his head in his hands. “Ugh, I think I’m gonna be sick!” He flung himself onto his back and laid spread eagle. His hands came up from the grass and he smacked himself. “Oooh…”

He thought of the creeper twitching on the grass in front of him, bleeding out and hissing in pain. He remembered how they came to the decision to help him. He remembered teaching the creeper and becoming his friend. He remembers Doc, standing small and deathly afraid of everything they gave him. Doc was nothing like he was now, all work and no wonder.

_VintageBeef has joined the world._

_EthosLab had joined the world._

“Yes!” Xisuma grinned, jumping to his feet. The bees swarmed around them retreated as the admin grinned at Bdubs and brought the man to his feet. “We ought to find them before they hurt themselves. Are you okay my friend?”

Bdubs nodded and swallowed some bile. “Let’s go get ‘em.”

Spawn island was populated by a chest of boats, a furnace full of kelp, and two very confused Hermits. Xisuma explained as carefully as he could that they had been missing for years and that restoring their memories of the events had taken them from wherever they where to this world and Xisuma couldn’t promise he could get them back if they wanted to leave.

They didn’t.

“I mean, so much has changed,” Said Beef, even on the simple spawn island he could see the mooshroom islands in the distance and the weird fauna in the water that definitely wasn’t there before. “where is Doc?”

“Oh! Doc!” Bdubs gasped.

Xisuma raised an eyebrow. “What about Doc?”

“Well, he was in my mine, so I tried to kick em out!” Bdubs tried to defend himself. “He didn’t look to good but he hissed at me and I thought he was gonna blow! So I left!”

“****!” Said Xisuma.

“What was that sound?” Asked Beef.

With the magic of admin powers and code that doesn’t talk back, Xisuma brought the three to the small cove Doc and Bdubs had used to set up camp. Doc wasn’t in his half-house or his farms, so Bdubs led them into the mineshaft which was clearly labeled as his, not Doc’s, so if Doc was hurt down there, it _wasn’t_ his fault.

Doc was hurt down there.

The hermit was curled up in the deepest part of the mine sleeping, or passed out, probably a bit of both. He looked pale and awfully tired and Etho scowled, walking forwards to try and get the man to his feet. With the help of Beef, they managed to get the unconscious Hermit out of the mine and into a bed. He looked worse in the light but the NHO pretended not to notice. Xisuma noticed and began to worry something he had done and poorly affected Doc, like reset the machinery in his head, or reverted him back to a feral creeper, or something terrible. The NHO sent him home to get some well-deserved sleep.

Opening his eye was the most complicated thing he had ever done. It felt like his body was a million pounds and the bed underneath him was endless. He hissed and found it in himself to groan too, trying to sit up. Where was he this time? He was nearly sure he had died and was respawning and had lost all his items. He would have to crawl back into the mines and start all over again but it’s fine because it wasn’t that bad and he needed to get it done so

“DOC!” Etho yelled, tackling the other Hermit into the bed he was trying to escape from.

The hermit startled, and even with his heavy body, he tackled Etho to the ground and raised his clawed paw. Beef circled his arms around Doc’s waist and heaved him to his feet in a backwards hug. “We thought you were dead dude!”

“The NHO is back baybe!” Agreed Bdubs, helping Etho to his feet and giggling about the scar on his shoulder and that “we were so close to having matching scars like, like _brothers_ ”

Doc pulled away and retreated into a corner of the room, eye wide with fear as he brandished his claws and bared his teeth. The rest of the NHO stood around his unused bed, too happy to be scared of him, with bloody clothes and a piercing red eye and _where_ did Bdubs get an axe from? Doc shook his head, panting as fear over took him, because this couldn’t be them. Etho and Beef were gone, Doc had accepted that, and Bdubs didn’t remember him, Doc knew that too.

Then they hugged him, not afraid of his claws, laughing into his lab coat and heaving him off the ground. Panic surged. “Put me down! Let go of me! You, you fricken- I swear, put me down!” He hissed desperately, but nothing boiled in his belly. “You’re not real!”

The NHO put their finalizing member down.

“I’m just, I’m just _tired_!” Doc cried. “I’m tired and hallucinating! You’re not real! This is just the last two worlds haunting me because actually moved on and am _doing_ things with my life and you’re not real!”

He sat on the old wood of ~~Grian’s~~ his house heavily and covered his face. He was so tired, but he had lost so much time and too many resources from that respawn to sleep or eat something. Doc tried to swallow the tears building in his eye and curled up into the tightest ball he could manage, scared of whatever his deprived brain would haunt him with next. But the Hermit did have time to be scared. He was shaking, sure, but he could get to his feet if he just, if he just

Etho sat next to him and leaned on his shoulder. Beef went to his other side. Bdubs threw his axe towards the bed and flopped down next to it. Doc looked up from his hands and scowled at the three. A very comforting, fire warm feeling filled him. “You’re back.” He murmured.

“X and his admin magic.” Said Etho.

“He fought the world and won.” Agreed Beef.

Bdubs looked over and smiled sheepishly. “You can have the mine, if ya want it. I was being a dummy.”

“You’re actually here.” Doc grinned something fierce and tackled Beef, because it was his turn, his laughter dissolving into happy hisses because he had his pack back. Etho and Bdubs just had to join in, a heap of happy Hermits settling into the new world.

Over the next few weeks, something great began to take form. Doc’s and Bdubs half houses and farms grew at a safe, steady rate that didn’t require Doc to stay awake for days on end. Beef found an abandoned village very far away from any jungle and got to work rejuvenating it. Etho decided to charge right back into the greenery (after Xisuma promised him this jungle had no cursed-looking code) since he enjoyed the simple living in season 5.

Doc promised not to work himself into the ground. Bdubs let him use the mine as promised. Beef’s beach was a pretty good place to relax. Etho provided Doc with all the jungle-related research material he never had in Area 77. Life was simple, easy, and comfortable. They shared stories like the old times and Doc got to boast about everything he learned while they were gone. It was good, and among his friends, Doc knew he wouldn’t have to fight to be remembered anymore.

As their resources grew, the four came together in a room Doc ~~learned how to make from Grian~~ made, an endless blackness that was impossible to navigate, as they discussed their business plans in order to bring down ConCorp and Sahara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This was really fun and I enjoyed trying to explain some weird things and write in character. Perhaps there will be more in the future, but until then, thank you again!


End file.
